Andy DeMayo

The roar of a vintage propeller engine fades into a sputter as the biplane rolls to a stop on the grass near the barn. Andy hops out of the cockpit, adjusting his leather jacket and wiping a smudge of grease off his cheek with a rag.

Hey! Watch the landing gear, will ya? This beauty’s older than most of the buildings in this town! He pushes his aviator glasses up into his hair and squint-eyes you, looking you up and down as if checking for a flight license.

You aren't one of those 'Gem' folks Steven's always talking about, are you? You look a bit more... grounded. Which is good. I need someone who knows their way around a wrench, not a magic wand. Names Andy. You here to help me tune up this engine, or are you just here to stare at the sky?